


Going the Extra Milo

by MeMyselfandI2008



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Stalking, Tutoring, but it’s just Melissa and Zack seeing if Bradley and Milo are dating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-02-26 22:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18725860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeMyselfandI2008/pseuds/MeMyselfandI2008
Summary: Bradley Nicholson isn't lonely. At least, he claims not to be, but once he spends a few hours in detention with Milo Murphy, he starts to notice unwanted feelings bubbling to the surface.Milo even offers to tutor Bradley in a subject he's having trouble with, and as much as Bradley wishes to decline, he doesn't.Murphy's Law never made anything easy, and yet somehow, it managed to bring Milo and Bradley closer than they had ever been before.





	1. Pink Slip

**Author's Note:**

> Did this for a class project, and decide to turn it into a full fan fiction for the pairing that needs more love.

Bradley watched Milo carefully form the corner of his eye, despising the way his stomach seemed to twist in the same way it had done when he was around Melissa. Mort and Amanda sat beside him, exchanging conversation with one another, their words muffled as Bradley lost himself in his thoughts, absentmindedly drawing a picture of Milo's lovable dog, Diogee, in the top corner of his paper.

_ You're insufferable, obnoxiously happy, and that stupid smile you always wear is just the  _ worst _ , _ his thoughts grumbled as he knit his eyebrows together in frustration,  _ You're horrible,  _ he continued,  _ Absolutely  _ horrible _. _

Mort and Amanda paused their conversation, both eyeing Bradley with mild concern, "Is he going to be okay?" Amanda asked, turning her gaze from Bradley to Mort, who gave a small shrug in response.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Mort replied, offering a reassuring smile, "He's probably just frustrated about school or something."

"Mr. Nicholson," the teacher spoke up, placing a slip of paper on top of Bradley's notebook, covering the various drawings he had started to drape his paper with, "Please, pay attention to my lectures," she spoke sternly, but tenderly. He muttered a small apology, glancing over the pink slip that had been handed to him.

_ DETENTION NOTICE _

_ NAME: Bradley Nicholson _

_ REASON: Missing assignments. _

_ DATE OF DETENTION: Tomorrow, after school, in the library. _

A long sigh left Bradley's lips as he pocketed the note, flicking his gaze between the bored and his notebook, copying down what was written.

+

Getting a detention hadn’t come as a surprise to Bradley. In fact, he had suspected he’d receive one for some time now. After all, he knew when he missed a week of school, it’d be inevitable playing a game of catch-up. He was glad though, that he would get some time to himself, only having the books and various papers for homework keep him company.

No Milo distracting him from what he should be focusing on, or the worry that anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Though, the longer he thought about it as he walked to his house from the bus stop, the more he realized that Milo could affect his learning even if he wasn’t near him. No doubt,  _ something _ would happen.

Alligators would invade the library, tearing up all the books and eating all the chairs, then Milo would bolt in with Zack and Melissa to take care of the situation, while Milo apologized to Bradley for interrupting his studies.

Bradley shook his head at the thought, opening the front door to his house and stepping in, shutting it behind him and kicking off his shoes by the entire way carpet, “I’m home,” he called out, the only reply being a small meow as his cat, Gatsby, pattered into the entire, greeting him with an affectionate rub on his leg and a soft purr.

He smiled, kneeling down and scooping Gatsby up in his arms, scratching the back of his head as he entered the living room, “It’s good to see you too,” he said, doing his best to push away the melancholy feeling that washed over him.

It wasn’t unusual for Bradley to have the house all to himself. Especially with his parents working as hard as they do, and it’s not like they were completely neglectful of him. They bought him Gatsby when he was around six, to keep him some company, and take holidays off to spend with him. So, it wasn’t all bad.

That’s what he tells himself, at least. He knows that, in reality, he feels lonely, even with Gatsby at the house. Bradley slumped down on the couch, placing the black and white cat in his lap, scratching behind his ears, “Surprisingly there wasn’t that many mishaps with Milo around today,” Bradley stated, “That doesn’t mean he was any less distracting though,” he continued, “I started drawing various caricatures of his dog, and even some of you.”

Gatsby flickered his ear, tilting his head to the side, a questioning look in his gaze.

Bradley gave a small huff, “I hate him,” he muttered, “He’s just so cheerful, and likable…”

The cat gave a small meow,  his tail shifting slightly.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Bradley snapped in reply, crossing his arms over his chest, “Why would  _ I _ be jealous?” he rambled, “Sure, he gets all the attention, but, so what? I have plenty of friends!”

It wasn’t a lie. He had a good handful of friends, who appreciated him and seemed to enjoy his company, but… did  _ they _ see him as a friend? He knew he could be a major pain sometimes, and even come off as a bit harsh and selfish, but he still  _ cared _ about the people that he let into his life.

Bradley shook the thought out of his head, grabbing the nearby remote and flicking on the TV, flipping through various channels.

_ Horse in a Bookcase _ ,   _ That’s the… Norm _ ,  _ Your Cooking Stinks & so do You… _

Nothing particularly interesting was on, but Bradley decided to leave the channel on  _ Ducky Momo _ , mostly for background noise, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy watching the occasional episode. What could he say? The art style was cute.

“What should we do for dinner?” he asked, shifting his gaze from the TV to Gatsby, “I think we still have some left over rice from last night,” he noted, “Or we have a few frozen pizza’s in the freezer.”

Gatsby sat up, briefly staring at Bradley before hopping off of his lap and onto the floor, letting out a small meow in reply. Bradley smiled, getting up from the couch and following Gatsby into the kitchen, “I think I’ll finish that rice,” he spoke quietly, opening one one of the cupboards and pulling out a can of cat food, “ _ You _ can have  _ Fancy Feast _ ,” he tagged on, cracking open the can and dumping the contents in a silver cat bowl.

Immediately Gatsby started to meow excitedly, purring loudly as he ate the food given to him. Bradley couldn’t help but laugh, gently patting Gatsby’s back, “You’re welcome,” he replied to the excited cat.

As he stood up, turning towards the fridge, his mind couldn’t help but wander back to the detention slip he had gotten. He should make a note to remind himself to ride his bike to school rather than take the bus, as he knew his parents wouldn’t be able to pick him up.

Did they know about the detention? If they did, would they have called to ask about it? Bradley was sure they would have… Right?

_ Of course they would! Stop being ridiculous, _ his thoughts snapped at him. He blinked, giving a small nod, pulling out the tub of rice and closing the fridge, “Right… If they knew they’d call… Or something…” he quietly muttered, doing his best to push away the feeling of loneliness that weighed on his shoulders.


	2. Blue Ink

The bell rang, signaling the last period of the day was over. Bradley quickly packed up his belongings and made his way towards the library, a calmness settling in as he watched various students exit the building to go home. He paused outside the library doors, taking in a deep breath before entering the room.

"Hey, Bradley!" an all too familiar chipper voice stated from one of the many tables.

Bradley felt his voice catch in his throat, eyes wide with shock, "You—" he sputtered out, an anger rushing through him, "What are _you_ doing here, Murphy?" he exclaimed, storming up to Milo, an accusatory air about him.

Milo kept on his smile, "Well, I missed a few assignments in one of my classes," he tagged on a quick "Murphy's Law, and all," with a light shrug, "So, I'm here to finish them up!" he explained, "What brings you to the library?"

Bradley pressed his lips into a thin line, glaring hard at Milo, "It's none of your business," he stated flatly, quickly turning and walking over to a table that was a good distance from Milo, "And don't bother me, got it?" he tagged on, briefly looking over his shoulder towards the cheerful brunette.

"Alright, well, good luck with whatever you're doing!" Milo replied, turning back to the assignment laid out before him.

"Mr. Murphy, Mr. Nicholson, _please_ remember to be quiet," the librarian spoke up from her desk, shifting her gaze from her book towards Milo, a wary look in her eyes, "I'd like to keep this place at least slightly clean."

"Yes, ma'am," Milo and Bradley quietly replied in unison.

Bradley took a deep breath, pulling out his books and several sheets of paper from his bag, flipping to the page he needed for his assignment. He grabbed his green pen that he'd tucked behind his ear and began to jot down the various math problems on the page.

Milo hummed softly to himself as he did his work, occasionally shifting his gaze to Bradley and the librarian, checking to see that Murphy's Law hadn't affected them in any way. It had been unusually quiet for him the past few days, but he kept on his toes for the sake of everyone else around him.

"Gah!" Bradley's voice cut through the quiet.

Milo got up without a second thought, tugging his backpack along with him, approaching Bradley to see what had happened, come to find that his pen had exploded, staining his clothes, math book and the table.

Bradley scuffed, shooting a hard glare at Milo, "Jee, I wonder who's fault _that_ was," he hissed in annoyance.

Milo let out a light laugh, pulling out several handkerchiefs from his bag, that were tied together, like they had belonged to a magician, "Yeah, sorry about that," he spoke sincerely, "Here, let me help," he gingerly dabbed at the ink stained book and table, offering one of the colorful pieces of fabric to Bradley, who stared at it for several seconds before finally snatching it out of Milo's hand, rubbing at his ink stained shirt.

"Don't rub it," Milo spoke up, gesturing to Bradley's ruined shirt, "If you do that, then it'll get stained for sure," he explained, his voice still carrying a noticeable fondness to it, "It's better if you dab it, like this."

Without a second thought, Milo took hold of the handkerchief, gaze focused on drying off the stained piece of clothing. Bradley hated the heat that was creeping up the back of his neck, embarrassed that he had to be cleaned off like he was a little kid, "I am _perfectly_ capable of cleaning myself off!" he snapped, pushing Milo away from him as he stood up, taking a few steps away from the brunette, "Besides, being near you is what caused my shirt to end up like this in the first place!" he hestily tagged on, praying that the blush on his face would die down.

" _Boys_ ," the librarian spoke up, a little louder than the first time she'd spoken, shooting a stern look towards the pair.

Milo offered an apologetic look towards her, "Sorry," he replied.

Bradley shifted his gaze to the side, muttering an apology as he shuffled a little further away from Milo.

+

Thirty minutes, or so, had passed since the pen explosion. Milo had offered Bradley his spare shirt and sweater vest, which he begrudgingly took and changed into, still making it a point to sit as far away from Milo as possible.

They continued on with their work. Bradley dug through his bag to pull out his headphones and MP3 player, hoping to distract himself from the dread of something going extremely wrong. Thankfully he was halfway through most of his work, with only a few things left to finish. He absentmindedly clicked his blue pen a few times, thinking of how he could answer the question in his history book.

 _Ask Milo for help,_ a part of Bradley stated bluntly, _He's right there. Just ask him._

 _Absolutely not!_ another part of Bradley argued, _Why would you even consider that? You know what will happen if you ask him for help? Your paper will combust!_

He found his hand moving on it's own, writing down a sentence on the blank sheet of paper before him.

_No, what are you doing? What did I just say—_

Bradley crumbled up the paper into a ball, turning his focus to Milo, hesitant.

_Throw it—_

_DON'T—_

With one swift motion, Bradley tossed the paper across the room, hitting Milo right on the head, "Oops..." he quietly muttered.

_This is why you're not in sports._

Milo was startled at first when the paper ball had hit him, but his fright quickly subsided into curiosity as he reached down to pick the ball up off the floor. He uncrumpled the paper, looking over what was written on it.

_Could you assist me with something? — Bradley_

Milo smiled, shoving the paper in his pocket as he got up from his seat, walking over to Bradley, "What did you need help with?" he asked quietly, taking a seat in one of the empty seats beside the dark haired boy.

" _Assistance_ ," Bradley corrected, "And, I'm having some trouble figuring out what to do for this question. I have the basic idea, but I'm not sure how exactly to put it into words," he explained, pointing at the question he was looking over in his book.

Milo let out a small hum in thought as he read over the question, tapping his chin, "Well—"

He was quickly cut short as water started rapidly dripping from the ceiling, splashing various papers and belongings. Bradley huffed in annoyance, his thoughts berating him with an, "I told you so," at Murphy's Law taking place.

"Ah, sorry about that, again," Milo said, tugging an umbrella out of his backpack and popping it open, shielding them from the incessant dripping, "Hold this, please," he spoke quickly, handing off the umbrella to Bradley, who instinctively took it, watching as Milo pulled out various buckets from his bag and placing them on the floor so water wouldn't get on the carpet. He took the umbrella back from Bradley, their hands briefly brushing against one another, "So, back to the question," Milo started, pointing to the written words on the page, "I think you could wrote something along the lines of..."

Bradley had stopped listening at one point, too focused on how close Milo was—again. Honestly, this was getting ridiculous. He had never once considered Milo a friend, and he _definitely_ didn't like having him around, so why did his stomach twist in a weird way—the same way as when he was around Melissa, his thoughts continually reminded him—when he was around the cheerful, walking hazard? It couldn't be that he _liked_ Milo. There was no way he'd even consider it a possibility!

No, Bradley Nicholson did not have a crush on Milo Murphy,  nor was he jealous of Milo for receiving so much attention for his "gift." Perhaps he simply just despised him in an odd way? Yes, of course! That made much more sense than the idea of liking—

"—Bradley, are you even listening?" Milo's voice cut through Bradley's thoughts, and it was in that moment Bradley found himself fully looking at Milo for the first time, taking in every little detail on the brunettes face, a mildly annoyed expression presenting itself to him.

"Yeah..." Bradley replied, slowly, "Just, keep explaining, would you? I'd like to get this done before detention is over," he tagged on, hoping that Milo wouldn't call him out on the blatant lie, and that the topic would just be dropped.

There was a beat of silence as Milo thought of what to say. He turned his attention back to the page, muttering a small, "Alright," as he continued on to explain what Bradley could write down for an answer.


	3. Doorbell

"This is all your fault!" Bradley exclaimed in frustration.

Gatsby gave a small meow in response, looking up at his owner from his seat on the bathroom sink.

Bradley turned to the cat, giving him a reassuring scratch behind the ears, "Not, you Gatsby," he stated, turning back to his reflection in the mirror, glaring hard at it, "If you had never asked for Milo's help, then I wouldn't be in this mess," he berated himself, "Now I'm stuck having to deal with him as a tutor!"

Before detention had ended, Bradley managed to make an utter fool of himself. He wasn't able to understand certain parts of history at all—it was just a jumbled, confusing mess to him—leading Milo to offer him tutoring as a means of understanding the certain topics. Of course, his first thought was to refuse, ask someone else, but another part of him told him he may as well accept the offer. Milo explained the topics well, and he was far too prideful of his intelligence to ask anyone else for help, so Milo was his only option.

Bradley sighed heavily, rubbing his tired eyes, "I wish I never asked him for help," he muttered.

Gatsby gently pawed at Bradley's side, taking note of his distressed state, meowing in hopes of gaining his attention.

"I suppose the most I can do is hope for the best," Bradley muttered, gently patting Gatsby on the head, offering a sad smile, "At least you'll finally meet someone new," he noted, "You must get tired of only seeing me all the time."

Gatsby gave a small purr in response, leaning into Bradley's hand.

+

Milo tugged at the straps on his backpack, rocking back and forth on his feet as he waited patiently for someone to answer the front door. He was noticeably excited, as he'd never been to Bradley's house before, and had been wondering, for the longest time, why he'd never even seen him with his parents before.

He glanced at the doorbell for what felt like the fifth time, silently debating on if he should ring it again. Milo didn't want to risk accidentally breaking it, but if Bradley didn't answer the door in the next few minutes, he'd ring it a second time.

A few minutes passed by, and Milo slowly raised his hand, pressing his pointer finger against the doorbell. As soon as he lifted his finger off the button, it popped out of the wall, just as the small frame of the doorbell came off the wall and clattered to the floor, taking the button with it.

 _Oops..._ he thought, a nervousness in his gaze, _I hope Bradley told his parents about my condition,_ he hummed, as it suddenly occurred to him that they would probably feel a little overwhelmed by his presence, _Maybe we should have gone to my house instead._

+

Bradley had his back pressed against the front door, feeling his stomach twist into unwanted knots, _Maybe if I ignore him, he'll just_ go away _..._ he thought, bitterly. He had almost forgotten Milo was going to tutor him today, then there he was, standing outside his door, and Bradley was positive he heard something break—the doorbell, most likely.

"Uh, Mr. or Mrs. Nicholson? I'm here to see Bradley," Milo called through the door, "And I broke your doorbell, but I should be able to fix it," he tagged on.

Bradley let out an annoyed groan, turning and tugging the door open, "You couldn't even last a minute without breaking something, could you?" he snapped.

"Well, actually, I've been out here for at least ten minutes," Milo replied, pulling on a wide smile as he dug through his backpack for the proper tools he'd need to fix the broken doorbell, "And I only broke the doorbell a second ago," he corrected, pulling out an assortment of tools and getting to work on fixing the doorbell.

Bradley rolled his eyes, leaning against the doorframe impatiently, "Whatever," he huffed, shooting Milo a quick glance before turning his attention to the floor, "But, thanks..." he muttered quietly, voice having a certain tenderness to it.

Gatsby gave a curious meow as he approached the open door, turning his gaze to the new face, trotting up to him, meowing excitedly.

Milo turned to the cat, offering it a small smile as he gently pat it's head, "I didn't know you had a cat," Milo stated, turning his gaze to Bradley, "You never mentioned it."

"Oh, well," Bradley muttered in reply, gently shutting the door behind him as he approached the pair, "His name is Gatsby," he stated, simply, unsure of what else he could possibly say.

"I'll bet he's pretty _great_ then," Milo replied, offering him a small smirk.

Bradley seemed taken aback by the statement, eyes wide with surprise, "Was that... was that a _Great Gatsby_ pun?" he asked, feeling his heart swell with happiness.

"Yeah," Milo replied, a confused look crossing his face, "That _is_ who you named him after, right?"

"Y—yeah," Bradley stuttered out, still somewhat surprised, "It's just, you're the first person to really get who I named him after," he explained, drumming his fingertips together, "My parents weren't very big into literature, and the only other person who's ever met him was Mort, so..." Bradley trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling his face heat up in mild embarrassment at his excitement.

Milo raised an eyebrow curiously, turning his attention back to the doorbell, "Not many people have been to your house?" he inquired, the question genuine.

"I like to keep to myself," Bradley quickly deflected, crossing his arms, "Anyways, are you done yet? You're supposed to be helping me with history, not fixing my doorbell!"

+

Milo had fixed the doorbell and now the pair were seated at the coffee table, books and papers scattered about. Milo was getting everything organized, having to shake off a piece of paper that had gotten stuck to his hand at one point due to it being covered in glue.

Bradley had grabbed them drinks, placing them a good distance from Milo, hoping they wouldn't get knocked over.

"Alright, so, where did you want to start?" Milo asked, shifting his gaze over the various papers and books.

A small hum left Bradley as he looked over the papers, "I guess, we could start..." he trailed off, gesturing to a sheet of paper that suddenly caught on fire. Bradley jumped back, letting out a small scream.

"Sorry about that!" Milo quickly replied, pulling out a fire extinguisher from his backpack and turning it on, putting out the fire. He flashed a sheepish grin towards Bradley, offering a small shrug and nervous laugh.

"I never should have agreed to this," Bradley grumbled in annoyance, standing up from his seat on the floor, "Grades or not, having my home destroyed isn't worth it," he muttered.

"Well, if you want we could always go somewhere else," Milo suggested, placing the fire extinguisher back in his backpack, "There's plenty of places we could go," he went on, "Like the town library, the park, an ice cream shop, a coffee place—"

 _What, are you taking me out on a date?_ Bradley felt his face flush at the thought, coughing into his fist and shifting his gaze to the side.

"—Where did you want to go?"

Bradley swallowed, clearing his throat as he turned to face Gatsby, who had made himself comfortable on top of Milo's shoes, "Uh," he muttered, covering his face with his hand, "The park...?" it came out as more of a question than an answer. He quickly approached Gatsby, scooping him up in his arms, hating the way his stomach twisted.

"Well, then, let's go there!" Milo chirped, "It's pretty nice out, too!" he tagged on as he started packing up the material in his backpack, "So, it'll be nice, I think."

Bradley gave a small hum in response, burying his face in Gatsby's fur as a means of comfort, _This is going to be a long day..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading chapter three! Feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments.


	4. A Bet

The sudden tug on the back of Bradley's shirt startled him, gaze fixed on the streetlamp that clattered to the floor. He swallowed, quickly pulling out of Milo's grip and straightening his glasses, "I should have just walked on the other side of the street," he muttered to himself.

"If you did that, then I wouldn't be able to help you out as fast as I could if I was next to you," Milo replied to the comment, not seeming the least bit bothered by Bradley's harsh tone.

"Milo?" a feminine voice questioned.

The brunette and raven haired boy turned to see who had spoken, finding Zack and Melissa across the street, having just exited from a book store.

"And Bradley," Zack stated, somewhat surprised to see his best friend with one of the people who hates him.

Milo waved to them, offering them a smile, "Hey, guys!" he greeted.

Bradley quickly turned away, attempting to hide his face with the side of his hand. Of course they had to run into Melissa and Zack during their walk, and of course Bradley couldn't help feeling embarrassed that he was seen with Milo—someone he's supposed to hate. He quickly grabbed Milo's wrist, dragging him off towards the direction of the park while he shouted a "See you guys later!" towards his two friends.

Zack and Melissa watched Milo get tugged off by Bradley, exchanging a look before shrugging in unison. They turned and continued on with their walk down the street.

"Bradley was trying to hide from us," Melissa noted, a small smile on her face, "I wonder what he's doing with Milo."

"Milo told us he and Bradley had detention together," Zack recalled, "Maybe they're starting to become friends?"

Melissa thought over the answer, shrugging her shoulders, "Maybe," she hummed in reply, quickly spinning on her heels to turn and face Zack, pointing a finger in his face, "Or  _maybe_ , Bradley has secretly been an evil robot, bent on harvesting Murphy's Law in order to use it to gain control of the whole universe!" she declared, a triumphant look on her face.

Zack rolled his eyes, a smile resting on his face, "You watch way too many conspiracy videos," he replied, giving her a light nudge in the side with his elbow.

"Well, what other explanation could there be?" Melissa countered, picking up her pace to keep up with Zack, "He's gotta be an evil robot!"

"Or he's got a crush on Milo," Zack stated flatly, though he hoped it came off as satirical, rather than serious.

Melissa scoffed at the statement, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow, "Bradley? Having a crush on Milo?" she mocked, "What, is the sky purple now?"

"How is  _that_  any more ridiculous than your weird robot theory?"

"Because Bradley is Bradley. He fell in love with an ice cream machine, for crying out loud!"

+

_ACHOO_

"Bless you," Milo spoke up from Bradley's side, offering him a kleenex he had pulled from his backpack.

The raven haired boy grimaced in annoyance, absentmindedly taking the tissue that was handed to him, "Someone is talking about me," he quietly muttered.

"Hm?"

"Nothing," Bradley quickly replied, "Just an old superstition."

Milo hummed in understanding, turning his attention back towards the park, "Did you want to sit on a bench or on the ground?" he asked, "I'd recommend the ground, cause I might end up breaking the bench, but it's up to you—"

"We can sit on the ground," Bradley cut in, "I'm sure you have something we can sit on in that bag of yours," he tagged on, gesturing to the backpack Milo already had open, gaze searching through various items to see where he had put the picnic blanket.

He pulled out the blanket, along with a few tent stakes, "Just in case the wind starts to pick up," he hummed, draping the blanket on the ground and driving the stakes in the corners.

Bradley helped put out the various books and papers, setting everything up so they could start studying. He took a deep breath, shifting his gaze around his surroundings.

The day was warm, with the occasional cool breeze flowing by, birds sang to one another in search of companionship, a group of kids were playing on the various playground equipment, their parents keeping a close eye on them while exchanging small talk with one another.

 _Maybe today won't be so bad after all..._ he thought, a small smile gracing his face.

"Alright, let's get started," Milo exclaimed, seating himself beside Bradley, who pretended not to notice their knees had briefly brushed together, "First things first, what are you confused about the most?" he asked, flipping to the table of contents in his textbook, "The War of 1812, right?"

+

"I'm telling you right now Zack, if Bradley had a crush on Milo, I would be the first to know," Melissa stated, taking a bite of her ice cream cone.

"Why? Just because he used to have a crush on you?" Zack countered.

The two had been arguing about Bradley and Milo's new acquaintanceship for the past twenty minutes. At first, Zack had been joking about Bradley having a crush on Milo, but the fact that Melissa was so dead set on her theory of Bradley being an evil robot made him want to prove her wrong with every fiber of his being.

"Obviously," she replied confidently, "And what do you mean, 'used to?'" she raised an eyebrow.

Zack returned Melissa's eyebrow raise, "When was the last time he showed even the  _slightest_  bit of interest in you?"

There was a beat of silence as Melissa thought, carefully, "Um..." she muttered. She huffed, "Okay, maybe not in the past few days, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have a crush on me."

"Uh-huh," Zack smirked, taking a  bite from his popsicle, "How about this, then," he offered his hand to her, "We spy on them during school, and see who's theory is true. Deal?"

"And what exactly does the winner receive, other than the satisfaction of being right?" Melissa asked, a grin on her face.

"Loser has to buy the winner lunch."

Melissa hummed, "Is this just your way of asking me out on a date?"

"Maybe," his hand was still out, waiting for her to shake it, "So, deal or no deal?"

"Deal," she replied confidently, shaking the hand offered to her,  her smirk growing wider, "No hard feelings if you lose."

+

As time had passed, Bradley slowly found himself understanding more about history. Milo explained it in a simple way that made it easier for Bradley to remember, rather than the needlessly complex way the teacher tended to word things.

Murphy's Law had also been rather quiet that day, which was odd, considering Milo was usually fending off bees, bears or even random pieces of debris that seemed to gravitate towards him.

Milo turned his focus from the book to Bradley, "How about we take a break," he suggested, a smile on his face, "I've got some snacks in my bag."

"You brought snacks?" Bradley raised an eyebrow, "What kind are they?"

"Well," Milo began, pulling off his bag and digging through it, "I've got a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, some carrots," he pulled out the items as he listed them off, "Apple juice, grapes, Ants on a Log..."

a confused look crossed Bradley's face at the last item, "What?"

"You've never heard of Ants on a Log?" Milo's face shifted to one of surprise. His only reply from Bradley was a small head shake. The brunette smiled, picking up the container the snacks were in and popping off the lid, "It's celery with peanut butter and raisins on it," he explained, pulling out one of the pieces of celery and offering it to Bradley, "You wanna try it?"

Bradley stared at the item, slowly taking it and looking it over, "So... why is it called Ant's on a Log?" he asked, "It doesn't actually have ants on it... does it?"

A snort left Milo, then a chuckle, "Oh my gosh, Bradley," he laughed.

"Er," Bradley felt his face flush with embarrassment, "S—shut it, Murphy!" he snapped, lightly shoving Milo in the shoulder, causing him to fall over.

"I'm sorry," he tried through his laughter, "It's just,  _really_ , Bradley?"

"Well,  _excuse me_  for not wanting to consume bugs!" Bradley huffed, crossing his arms and shifting his gaze, face still red. He couldn't believe he'd embarrassed himself like that! Especially in front of Milo, the person he despised more than anyone else in the world.

 _But..._  Bradley shifted his gaze to Milo. His smile was so bright, and the sun was shining on him in just the right way, bringing out his face. Bradley smiled softly,  _His smile can be really cute—_ Bradley swallowed, blush deepening at the thought. He turned away, focusing on anything other than Milo.

Milo coughed into his fist, attempting to calm his laughter, "Sorry," he apologized, lifting himself up off the ground, "I didn't mean to laugh," he admitted, picking up one of the ants on a log and taking a bite.

"Whatever, I doubt these are even that good," Bradley grumbled, taking a small bite from the snack in his hand. He stared down at it, noticeably surprised, "Huh," he muttered, taking another bite, "This is actually pretty good..."

Milo smiled, "I'm glad you like it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a while, but here’s the third chapter! Hope you enjoyed reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated!


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